Holiday Documentaries
by MarauderMischeif
Summary: Christmas, Halloween, Valentines Day... You'll find 'em here at that time of year!


A/N: This is a little thing I recently cooked up; the Marauder Letters. This takes part in the summer before the sixth year; when the Marauders are separated around the globe, vacationing. So, to stay in touch, our friends are sending letters… among other things. This is just the first segment of my _Holiday Documentaries, _in which I will write fanfics for each holiday; Christmas, summer vacation, Easter, Halloween, you name it. And so, I'm starting at the summer; the beginning of the end. Each holiday event will take place in seventh year, just so I can add some Lily/James fluff to it. (Har, har.) Enjoy, and just wait for the next installment!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter. Or… Holidays, for that matter. Glad we cleared that up.

The Marauder Letters

Monsieur Wormtail,  
__

Letters for the Socially Retarded.  
That's what we should call this... _Era_ of letter-sending and picture taking.  
Either that, or _James Potter: The Man Who Thinks Howlers Are Generosity._  
Did he send you a howler as well? I think the muggles next door didn't hear the screaming letter loud enough. I think they did however hard I try to block the thought from my mind. It was worse enough with my parents here, as well. Imagine James voice screaming in your ear…

_Hello Padfoot! I regret to inform you that your knickers do not fit me. Perhaps I am growing; or you are shrinking. Or quite possibly, they are not your knickers at all, but the devious work of  
COWBOYS FROM SPACE!_

Yes, knickers made by space cowboys, or how he likes to put it, Cowboys from Space.  
Either way, it's fucked up.  
Well, vacation here has so far been... entertaining to say the least. Did you know the Eiffel Tower is three hundred and twenty meters tall? Enough to make you wonder what kind of sound Remus would make if you dropped him off it.  
So, how are you in your knicker-y world? I enclosed in this envelope a pair of biting trousers.  
You've probably discovered them by now.  
Anyway, I've been so longing to meet up with you and the other Marauders… To curl up on a loveseat and read Victoria Secret magazines and find new cooking recipes… Throw on some Kenny G… Possibly soak up in a hot bath, just the four of us…  
HAR HAR HAR. Got you, didn't I? I bet you're sitting on your bed, disappointed that this is a joke. Joke. Siriusly, this is a joke, so please stop drooling and imagining me-  
Soaking.  
_WET.  
_Maybe I should close said topic of sexy wetness, because thoughts of you and cake and hot bathes are entering my mind.  
OH DEAR, THE INSANITY! I swear you want me to think dirty things.  
But do you want me to want to think of dirty things? I think you do.  
Whatever nasty way you choose, I'm always in your heart.  
I do not mean that literally, for if I were in your heart, you would be dead and unable to appreciate my   
WETNESS.  
Wet, wet wet wet wet wet wet wet.

Lovingly yours, (but not really)

Padfoot.

Moony,

Did you get my howler? Did you, did you, did you? I bet you did. I bet it screamed nasty things in your ear when your family was in the room.  
I bet you drooled at the nasty things it said.  
Anyways, my summer vacation SUCKS. My mother said that Rome was one of the most beautiful places in the world, yada yada yada. It is _sooo _not. I mean, it's crumbling. And get this; the statues of guys?

They don't have weenies.

It's really quite frightening, because it makes you wonder if they're going to hack off your weenies as well. And add them to a secret box of dismembered weenies located on Mars, kept under watch by  
_COWBOYS FROM SPACE._  
I don't want a circumcision, Remus… I need it for Lily-love.  
Speaking of Lily, I enclosed in said envelope a bottle of Lily-fragrance. You allowed ONE INHALANCE. Then it must be burned, for safety reasons. Who knows; thou that do smell thy loveliness shall go crazy.  
Or some weird thing like that.  
I smell tacos. You know who can't have tacos?  
Sirius.  
Because he's IN PARIS.  
The lucky sod. I could have brought Lily to the city of transplants.  
Or was it city of romance?  
Either way, it's all good, eh? Eh? You'd be surprised how many lover-ly women there are here. They keep eye-balling me. And smiling. Like they know something I don't.  
Are they going to hack off my weenie too?  
I like my genital parts. They're so… sterile. And I know how much you love it when I talk about my genitals, so I think I shall continue this subject for hours and hours on end, until your eyes are red and bloodshot from reading said subject and your mind can do nothing but imagine the beauty that is my manly parts.  
So I hear you've got a visitor next week (AWOOOOOOO!) COUGH CHANGE OF SUBJECT COUGH. Oh, my darling little Moony, you shall be a giant furry animal with no sense control and LIKE IT. You know why?  
It frees your mind from everything… except me. I know you love me, but I regret to tell you that I am with Lily now (she finally fell for my charms) and madly in love.  
So, how are your genitals? Well, I hope you're well and all that, but I really have no time to dilly, or dally, or any other word that doesn't really seem like a word but is an excuse to fill up homework parchment. I must go stroke my pictures of my dear Lily flower and perform my evening worship ritual.

Your fellow Cowboy from Space,

Prongs (NOT Jamesie the Red-Nosed Reindeer, you retarded little wolf-beast.)

Padfoot,

Are you alright? You seem a little more… mental than usual.  
I am going to tell you once, and hope you understand for eternity; I am most certainly NOT imagining you wet and soaking. I never did, nor will I EVER. Just to clear that up.

And thank you for the _FLESH EATING TROUSERS! _Never before have I been mauled by mystical, magical pants, but I am here to inform you that next time you set them on me, you shall  
ROT IN HELL!  
You have no idea how much pain that just caused me to write all of those exclamation marks, let alone flip through the dictionary to find out how to spell exclamation. I would have strangled to death by those trousers, had my mum not just entered the room with a pair of massive scissors.  
Which, by the way, her aim is _rubbish._  
As a return gift, I have sent you pornographic pictures that will scream and shout just exactly how pornographic they are for all to hear.   
They are NOT pornographic pictures of me, and they do NOT have anything to do with me.  
They are wet, though. Bet you loved that, didn't you?  
You'd be surprised how similar Canada is to Europe. Of course, the only thing I'm wondering is why we went to Canada, the freaking CITY OF IGLOOS instead of, oh, I don't know, a SAUNA!  
No, there aren't really igloos here... I hear there are up north, which I would LOVE to see. But, of course, I think Eskimos are fake- I mean, _really,_ who eats seal blubber? So far, my family and I have gone to… the zoo, a gift shop, and the Niagara Falls. You know… Niagara Falls? Loads of rushing, glossy clear water?  
WET? Oh yes, I was thinking of you the whole time.  
You can't see me, but I'm giving you the finger right now.  
Anyways, I hope you're enjoying yourself in the city of good food and WARMTH.  
Can't wait till this 'global warming' kicks in.  
See you back at school. Where it's dry.

Wormtail

Prongsie the Red-Nosed Reindeer,

As much as I love to hear you go on…  
And on…  
And on…  
…About genitals, cowboys from space, and Lily (how she agreed to date you, I am clueless) I have business to inform you that it isn't at all pleasurable talk. Even though, as you read this, you're probably asleep and disregarding every word I write.  
We have other matters to clear up.  
First of all, the statues have no genitals (and in place, leaves) because- well, think logically. Is the most religious city in the world, the city of God, going to have sex bannered like movie posters?  
Although I can imagine you liking it…  
Secondly, it is impossible to walk on Mars… so far. So I doubt cowboys would be on it, guarding the most sacred box of genitals to ever survive upon that planet. And even though I love talking of manly parts as much as the next guy… I'm afraid it's a sure sign of your insanity.  
Not that it's a bad thing.  
And thirdly, I'm sensing that the reason behind Lily 'falling for your charms' will forever remain unknown.  
It's been pretty uneventfully here in Italy. There's so many…  
…  
Italians. So far, the most interesting part of my vacation was watching a grown Italian man hand a stack of trousers back to a saleswoman and declare that they are indeed not "leak proof".  
Which, I must tell you James, most trousers are not leak proof and you would do well not to try this theory out on mine.  
By the way, James, I think I finally have an answer for your questions as to why muggles admire guns more than women. If you admire a friend's handgun and tell him so, he is likely to let you try it out a few times. Just to get that out of the way.  
Well, I think I'll leave you for now. The parents have turned on the television… and are zoning out as I write.  
What a world with televisions…

Moony. (Commonly known as wolf-boy. sighs)

Wolf-boy,

James wrote to me about your little disliking of TV, and I must ask you: Excuse me? Have you taken a recent blow to the head? There is a reason we have televisions! And I was kind enough to write it down for you.

1. It is always possible to park directly outside any building you are visiting.

2. A detective can only solve a case once he has been suspended from duty.

3. If you decide to start dancing in the street, everyone you bump into will know all the steps. 

4. Most laptop computers are powerful enough to override the communication systems of any invading alien civilization.

5. It does not matter if you are heavily outnumbered in a fight involving martial arts- your enemies will wait patiently to attack you one by one by dancing around in a threatening manner until you have knocked out their predecessors.

6. No one involved in a car chase, hijacking, explosion, volcanic eruption or alien invasion will ever go into shock.

7. When they are alone, all foreigners prefer to speak English to each other.

8. You can always find a chainsaw when you need one.

9. Any lock can be picked by a credit card or a paper clip in seconds, unless it's the door to a burning building with a child trapped inside. 

10. Television news bulletins usually contain a story that affects you personally at that precise moment you turn the television on.

So you see, Moony, you have nothing to fear; the television only provides knowledge! It's how I got this critical information!  
Italy, eh? Well, I suppose it's better than Wormtail's trip to Canada… Or Cantata… either way, he's got to be freezing in hell. With Inuit's and the type.  
Oh, have you gotten a letter from Peter yet? WHATEVER HE SAID ABOUT WET STUFF IS ENTIRELY UNTRUE. Not that I would know anything about that…  
Or that there even would be anything about wetness to talk about…  
…  
Is that a plane?  
When you introduced me to e-mail, Mr. Lupin, I thought it was ingenious. Now, it's bloody RUINED ME! I think someone hacked into my e-mail address- last night, my mum called me to tell me that 'Pogdi', my Pakistani mail-order bride, had arrived. POGDI! I KNOW NO POGDI! I am single and shall remain so for the rest of my uneventful life, no matter the cost! You, Moony, will have a price to pay. Oh yes. I'm thinking of your punishment right now, and it involves a LOT of water- HAR HAR HAR.  
Anyways, I must be off. I need to devise an escape route from my early marriage.

Your rabid angry dog,

Padfoot

James,

Ugh. Get home already, you lucky sod. I'm stuck in the house listening to my mother watch the Brady Bunch while Petunia comes up with weirder and weirder nicknames.   
She found one of my letters from you, actually… Yes, she's been teasing me with the names Lily-flower, Pumpkin, and Spaghetti-Head ever since. _Please_ James, just call me Lily?  
Also, my family and I are devising new and 'exciting' inventions- such as the water-proof towel, a solar powered flashlight, submarine screen doors, pedal powered wheel chairs and more.  
None of said devices were mine.  
How's Rome been? Besides the… genital problem? Yes, I heard abut it from Remus… And really, James, it's quite frightening what you panic about. Like the fact there are no such things as cowboys from space.  
NO SUCH THING.  
And, frankly James, I'm beginning to become slightly tired of your… er… 'dating manners'. So, I've written a little something for you.  
I do expect you to read it.

FINE  
This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up.

FIVE MINUTES  
If she is getting dressed; this is half an hour. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given 5 more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house.

NOTHING  
This is the calm before the storm. This means "something," and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with 'Nothing' usually end in "Fine."

GO AHEAD  
This is a dare, not permission. Don't do it.

LOUD SIGH  
This is not actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A "Loud Sigh" means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you over "Nothing."

THAT'S OKAY  
This is one of the most dangerous statements that a woman can make to a man. "That's Okay" means that she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.

THANKS   
A woman is thanking you. Do not question it or faint. Just say you're welcome.

I hope when you come home, you realize how much this will come in handy.  
Missing you,

_Lily_


End file.
